


The Perfect Fit

by Hustling_Rube93



Series: Stay [10]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Sisters, Wedding Planning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:41:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25453303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hustling_Rube93/pseuds/Hustling_Rube93
Summary: This place was giving her flashbacks.And she wasn’t entirely sure how she felt about that.Looking around at the countless racks of satin, charmeuse and tulle, all Bellatrix could think about was her ridiculously fancy, ridiculously expensive wedding and it was enough for her to break out in a cold sweat.
Relationships: Andromeda Black Tonks/Original Male Character(s), Andromeda Black Tonks/Ted Tonks, Bellatrix Black Lestrange & Andromeda Black Tonks, Bellatrix Black Lestrange/Rodolphus Lestrange, Hermione Granger/Bellatrix Black Lestrange
Series: Stay [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1574908
Comments: 8
Kudos: 100





	The Perfect Fit

**Author's Note:**

> A hidden scene between Bella and Andy set around six years after the start of ‘Stay’.
> 
> Once I got this idea in my head I couldn’t not slip it into the series. 
> 
> I own nothing. All mistakes are my own. Enjoy!

This place was giving her flashbacks.

And she wasn’t entirely sure how she felt about that. 

Looking around at the countless racks of satin, charmeuse and tulle, all Bellatrix could think about was her ridiculously fancy, ridiculously expensive wedding and it was enough for her to break out in a cold sweat. 

Her father had spared no expense for his exceptionally spoiled first born. But thinking back now, Bellatrix couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed and just wanted the overly padded armchair she was currently slouched in to swallow her up. Because the whole thing had been rather pretentious, really - she’d insisted on charmed ice sculptures shaped like swans for the centrepieces for Salazar’s sake! She didn’t even like swans. Nasty, hissy little fuckers - but the entire affair had still been one of the biggest Pureblood weddings of the decade and had featured in an eight page spread in the _Daily Prophet_.

She supposed it was a sign of how far she’d really come after the War, that she saw all the flashy things that most Pureblood’s thought were grandiose as gaudy, ostentatious tat now. 

But her dress, oh, Merlin, she’d loved her dress. 

There was nothing tacky about that.

She’d been decked out in vintage lace and her grandmothers pearls; white, with a keyhole back, three quarter sleeves, and an off-the-shoulder neckline that hinted at her generous assets without being slutty.

Her mother had nearly scalped her that morning trying to subdue her unruly hair when the stylist had made her look like a poodle the first time around, the caterers had been late, and a wardrobe malfunction with Narcissa’s bridesmaids dress had nearly sent her little sister into a full blown meltdown, but it had been more than worth it to see the look on her love’s face. 

She was still convinced that even if she’d shone brighter than the sun that day, Rodolphus still wouldn’t have looked away. 

Rodolphus...

She’d loved him once, really loved him. They’d been devoted to one another, but they’d married when they were eighteen, fresh out of Hogwarts, and too immature to truly see the consequences of their actions. Unsurprising, really, that after only a year, their juvenile yearning faded in its childish excitement and morphed into an easy companionship. Divorce was practically unheard of in the Wizarding World, so of course it had been completely out of the question, the scandal would’ve uprooted their newfound social standing amongst the Pureblood elite and left their reputations in tatters. 

So for over thirty years, they built their marriage on a foundation of mutual respect, friendship, and great sex. But it was all a lie, because she never loved him the way a wife should’ve loved her husband. 

Merlin, Bellatrix’s head was spinning just thinking about it. 

She didn’t think about her husband all that much anymore, she had no reason to after all. Not when she’d been in a committed, romantic relationship with her beautiful young witch for the past six years. But on the odd occasion when she did think about him, like today - sitting in a tiny Hogsmeade bridal boutique, three glasses deep into the world’s shittiest champagne while her sister tried on the umpteenth dress in as many hours - she couldn’t help but feel guilty because she missed him.

Well, she missed the good times at least; his godawful dancing, his dry wit, his ready smile, the way he’d roll his eyes and kiss her to shut her up whenever she went off on another one of her tangents.

What she didn’t miss were the almost daily arguments (and occasional fistfight) after The Dark Lord’s second rise to power and their subsequent prison break. She didn’t miss feeling alone even when they were together. She didn’t miss all his thoroughly annoying little eccentricities that drove her round the bend. She didn’t miss the cloying smell of cheap perfume clinging to his skin after he’d been with another one of his two-bit Knockturn whores. 

So what if she’d went on a sex strike. His comments about her aging body during their first night together after prison had been less than flattering and he’d pissed her off something terrible, but did that mean he had to run out and shag the first skank who’d spread her legs for him? After that first year, when they’d realised divorce wasn’t an option, they’d continued the pretence of being a deeply in love happily married couple even though they were more friends with benefits than husband and wife, and they’d agreed to be mutually exclusive - no great sacrifice considering the sex was decent. And for the entirety of their marriage, Bellatrix never broke that agreement once, she never strayed, never took another to her bed. 

And neither did he...until he casually mentioned that her boobs weren’t as perky as he remembered and she banished him to a guest room in a lesser used wing of Malfoy Manor. She’d never told anyone back then, not even Narcissa, but his womanising ways had cut her deeply. And on the odd occasion when his whores weren’t available, he’d come begging at her door like a dog looking for scraps and it was those moment when she realised just how much she’d come to resent him. 

Because Bellatrix Black was a lot of things, but an afterthought she was not. 

Yet, despite the cringe fest her wedding day had been, despite the fact that her marriage had been nothing more than a sham, despite their cushy life together going to shit the moment they’d aligned theirselves with a madman, despite...despite everything, she couldn’t help but look back on her life with Rodolphus with an inordinate, wistful feeling of...fondness. 

Thoughts racing, she was suddenly, blissfully interrupted by the annoying saleswoman - What was her name? Linda? Laura? - who seemed to materialise out of thin air next to her chair. “Can I get you another drink, Madam Black?” she asked. “More champagne? Wine?”

Bellatrix smiled tightly, she was briefly tempted to ask for more alcohol, but the champagne was starting to make her feel a little antsy. She wanted to leave, she needed air. The back door was immediately to her left, she was just a few feet from sanctuary.

But instead of bolting for the exit, she said, “Water’s fine. Bottled. No ice. Wedge of lime.”

“Right away, Madam Bla—“

“Oh, Bella!” Andromeda’s shriek of delight suddenly met her ears from behind the dressing room curtain. “I think I’ve found it!”

“You said that about the last three dresses,” Bellatrix teased. 

Andromeda’s laugh was sarcastic as she pulled the curtain to the side in one swift motion and glided into the middle of the room to fully present the wedding gown.

“Oh, Andy...” Bellatrix felt her breath catch in the back of her throat and instantly stood up, setting her empty glass on a nearby table. 

“Well?” Andromeda’s asked, nervously twisting the ends of her rich, mahogany coloured curls around her finger. She looked a little demure, her dark eyelashes fluttering nervously. It was completely unlike her, but Bellatrix couldn’t even find her sister’s shyness endearing because she was completely mesmerised by the absolutely stunning dress. “What do you think?”

Bellatrix couldn’t take her eyes off of her. The dress made Andromeda’s skin glow and her eyes sparkle just a little bit more. It was ivory, simple yet elegant, with clean, soft lines, a pretty lace overlay and a scalloped edge. 

But Bellatrix’s first thought wasn’t how absolutely stunning her sister looked, it was that this was the first time she’d seen Andromeda in a wedding dress. 

Well, she’d seen photographs of course, and briefly recalled flicking through Andromeda’s old wedding albums a few years ago. Her sister had looked like a princess in her gorgeous white gown, young and vibrant, flushed with happiness because she’d just married the man she’d given up her entire family for. 

But seeing Andromeda now, a woman, a glowing vision in white, was truly a sight to behold. 

Bellatrix felt her heart stutter in her chest and her mind reeled, and it was a sudden, painful reminder that she hadn’t been a part of Andromeda first wedding. 

“I think Alexander Macmillan is one lucky bastard,” she finally said, barely managing to keep her voice from wavering. “It’s - you look beautiful, love.”

Giddy with excitement, Louise - or was it Lara, maybe? - clapped her hands together, and asked, “Is this it? Is this _the one_?”

“I think so, Lindsay,” Andromeda beamed, and flashed teeth brighter than the lights that shone down on them. “And I don’t think it’ll need any adjustments, maybe an inch or two off the length? It’s the perfect fit, really.”

“It absolutely is! It’s like it was made just for you,” Lindsay gushed. 

Immediately, a white length of measuring tape appeared out of thin air and snapped to attention beside Andromeda, awaiting orders. And as Lindsay guided her sister over to the mirror to measure up her hem alterations, Andromeda cast a glance over her shoulder and met Bellatrix’s dark gaze. 

The younger woman’s excited smile immediately faltered and her eyebrow crept up, wordlessly asking if Bellatrix was alright.

Looking at Andromeda, her Andromeda, her loving, caring, wonderful Andromeda, standing there in front of her with a terribly endearing look of concern and bewilderment on her face, made Bellatrix’s heart ache and her lips slide up into what she hoped was a reassuring smile.

Bellatrix knew by Andromeda’s subtle head tilt that her sister knew something was wrong. But Bellatrix would endeavour to endure the remainder of their trip, Andromeda had been excited about wedding dress shopping for weeks, and Bellatrix didn’t want to take that away from her.

“It’s nothing,” she mouthed, when she realised Andromeda was still staring at her worriedly, and sat back down again. 

* * *

“It’s ok to miss him sometimes, Bella,” Andromeda said softly. 

Bellatrix looked up, “Hmm?” 

They were sitting in The Three Broomsticks. 

They’d finished up at the dress shop nearly an hour ago and Andromeda had somehow managed to cajole her into stopping off for a quick drink to celebrate saying ‘yes to the dress’ before they headed home. Sitting in a pub - especially a pub like The Three Broomsticks - usually didn’t appeal to Bellatrix, too people-y for her liking, but despite the streets being mobbed with Hogwarts brats, the tavern was surprisingly quiet except for a group of boys in the corner snickering over Butterbeer and a gentleman sitting at the bar who was trying (and failing) to chat up Rosmerta. 

“I said, it’s ok to miss him,” Andromeda repeated. 

Bellatrix looked at her and her sharp eyes narrowed over the rim of her glass as she took a mouthful from her pint of bitter. “What’re you babbling about?” she drawled, feigning nonchalance, even though she could hear the little hitch in her own voice that only happened when she was getting worked up. 

She knew exactly what Andromeda was getting at though, or she thought she did anyway. She knew when Andromeda had seen whatever it was that she’d seen in her eyes back at the dress shop that they were building up to this conversation. 

Sometimes her sisters perceptiveness astounded her.

Andromeda traced her finger around the rim of her wine glass, and casually said, “You were married for a long time, Bella. I know you don’t like to talk about him much and things between you were...complicated, but he was still your husband. I know you loved him.”

“Of course I bloody loved him,” Bellatrix snapped, then she pinched the bridge of her nose and said, softer, “I loved him, but I wasn’t...I wasn’t _in love_ with him.”

Andromeda reached out and covered her hand with hers, squeezing her fingers gently. “That doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to miss him, love.”

Bellatrix just shrugged and looked away. She tried to think about the feelings she’d had for Rodolphus and the feelings she now had for Hermione, and struggled to draw any sort of comparison.

“Are you having doubts?” Andromeda’s asked, concern lacing her tone. 

Bellatrix head snapped around to face her again and she frowned, “About what?”

“About Hermione.”

“Don’t be daft, woman.” Bellatrix tutted in annoyance and knocked back the dregs of her pint. “I just can’t help but feel guilty for missing Rod, that’s all. I mean, I shouldn’t, right? Not when I’m with Hermione.”

A few moments of quiet passed between them and both witch’s looked down at the scarred wooden table to avoid each other’s eyes.

“I miss Ted everyday,” Andromeda eventually murmured. Bellatrix dared a glance at Andromeda and noticed how her sister’s downcast eyes suddenly glistened with unshed tears in the low tavern light. “I miss the way he always made me laugh. I miss waking up and seeing his face every morning. I miss how happy he always made me. I miss his lasagna. I miss the sex.”

“I’m sorry, Andy,” Bellatrix said, feeling terrible for dredging up feelings about Ted that she knew Andromeda tried oh so very hard to kept concealed. She couldn’t help but think she’d ruined today’s vibe and fiddled anxiously with her fingers in her lap. “I didn’t mean to—”

“And when I met Alec...” Andromeda interrupted, making hesitant eye contact, before the corner of her mouth curled into a faint smirk. “I wanted to punch him right in his arrogant fucking face...”

Bellatrix blinked, then laughed a little. 

She couldn’t help it. 

If memory served her correctly, Andromeda had first met Alec when the man had rushed to the Dai Llewellyn Ward for Serious Bites after nearly losing his thumb and forefinger. He’d been a...difficult patient apparently (Andromeda’s description had been a lot more colourful), and even with his hand gushing blood everywhere, he’d still refused to tell Andromeda what exactly had bitten him until she threatened him with bodily harm. Faced with Andromeda’s wrath, he’d sheepishly admitted that it was, in fact, a garden gnome that had taken a chunk out of his hand and that he’d startled the little pest when he’d mistook the creature’s large head for a potato when he was attending to his vegetable patch. 

The fact that the silly man had been too embarrassed to admit he’d been gardening had only enraged Andromeda all the more. 

Alec was one of those men who was rugged with stubble, had messy, unkempt dark hair with just a hint of grey around the temples, and whose barely lined, strong-jawed face made him exceptionally attractive. He could be a little up himself as times, as most Pureblood’s tended to be, but he had an unwavering decency and a calm, straightforward way of talking that made him exceptionally sexy.

Definitely not the type of man you’d expect to see fussing and crooning over a potted Mimbulus Mimbletonia. But Andromeda also had a green thumb, and thinking back, Bellatrix was sure Alec’s love of gardening was what really drew her sister to him in the first place. 

The bouquet of roses he’d sent to the ward to apologise for his twat-ish behaviour probably had something to do with it too. And when Andromeda learned that the flowers were hand picked from Alec’s own garden, well, Bellatrix didn’t think she’d ever seen her sister swoon so hard.

“He’s nothing like Ted,” Androemda went on, draining the last of her wine in one large mouthful. “His jokes are terrible and he can’t cook for shit. But he’s brilliant with Teddy and I love him. He makes me happy, Bella. And Ted would never grudge me my happiness, even...” Andromeda’s voice was low, her next words lined with deep meaning. “Even if it’s with someone else.”

Bellatrix knew Andromeda was right, knew that this was what had been bothering her the moment they’d stepped foot into the bridal shop. Just because her life with Hermione was moving forwards, didn’t mean her old life with Rodolphus needed to fade into oblivion. 

Even when things were at their very worst between her and Rodolphus, her feelings never changed, and she doubted they ever would, but the way she felt about him was eclipsed somewhat by the feelings she now held for a certain honey eyed beauty. Love and passion were important, but so was choice, and even though she still loved Rodolphus deeply - as a friend, as a lover, as a husband - if she had the choice to do it all again, she wouldn’t chose him. 

She would choose Hermione. And she would choose her over and over and over again. 

Hermione had been her rock after the War.

As solid as solid could be. 

Bellatrix couldn’t help but be completely enamoured by everything that Hermione said and did. Her brilliance was astounding. Her passion and drive was impressive. Her love for Bellatrix was unfathomable. And Bellatrix honestly didn’t know what she would’ve done without her. The young witch had been a bit of unexpected magic in her life, jostling her out of the spiral of self-loathing and loneliness that had plagued her since her acquittal. It was astounding really, how utterly soft and ridiculous she’d become in recent years.

But Bellatrix knew, without a doubt, that Rodolphus would be thrilled for her, wherever he was. That he would been proud of what she’d somehow managed to build with Hermione. That he would be happy to know that she’d kept on living, kept herself happy. That she’d found love again, even if she found it in the most unexpected place, and that her and Hermione were good, better than good. 

A warm hand covered hers, jerking her out of her reverie, and she looked at Andromeda’s gentle, smiling face. 

“I think the bravest thing someone can do is allow themselves to fall in love again,” Andromeda told her, tentatively.

“You’re right,” Bellatrix sighed, turning her hand under Andromeda’s so they could lace their fingers together. “Have I completely ruined your day with my soppiness?”

Andromeda rolled her eyes good-naturedly and squeezed her hand. “Oh, you daft mare, of course not. I’ve had a brilliant day. It’s not very often we get to spend time together just the two of us.” She held up her empty wine glass and waved it in front of Bellatrix’s face. “But it would be an even better day if we had one more drink before we headed home.”

“Oh, I suppose so,” Bellatrix said with a put upon sigh, then she swivelled in her seat to scout the tavern for Madam Rosmerta. She spotted the landlady standing with her hands on her hips and scolding the three Hogwarts boys who’d been ogling her from the corner. 

“I think it’s about time you lads headed back to school, eh?” Bellatrix heard the big-bosomed witch say.

“But we’re only studying!” one of the boys slurred in protest.

“The only things I’ve seen you lot study is my tits,” Rosmerta scoffed. Then she started to collect the ten empty Butterbeer bottles lined up on the table. “Now, bugger off. I think you’ve all had enough.”

Bellatrix grinned and caught Rosmerta’s eye as she turned away from the grumbling schoolboys, and she waved her hand in the air, announcing loudly, “Yoo-hoo. Rosie, love. Top up when you get a tic. Thirsty witches over here.”

“Coming right up, darlings,” the landlady called back, and appeared but a few moments later with their drinks. “There you are my lovelies,” the witch crooned, setting another pint for Bellatrix and a glass of rosé for Andromeda down on the table. “Oh, and congratulations, Andy. I was so chuffed for you and Alec when I seen the announcement in the _Prophet_. Not long now until the big day, eh?”

“Ta, love,” Andromeda beamed, and tilted her head up when Rosmerta leaned in to press a congratulatory peck against her cheek. “No, not long at all. The weeks are flying in.”

“And you,” Rosmerta turned to Bellatrix with a wicked grin and nudged her playfully in the ribs just as she took a sip from her pint, nearly sloshing ale all down her front. “When’re you proposing to your little bit, hm?”

Bellatrix only grinned at Rosmerta’s light-hearted teasing. Truthfully, she didn’t know how Hermione would feel about a wedding, but in the six years they’d been together, the young witch had never expressed any desire for all the hoopla that came with a wedding. Whether Hermione wasn’t interested or whether she was perfectly happy with the notion of living in sin, Bellatrix didn’t know, but Hermione seemed perfectly happy with just Bellatrix for the time being. 

And if Hermione was happy, then Bellatrix was happy. 

Before she was able to offer Rosmerta a reply though, the landlady excused herself and disappeared behind the bar to serve the group of witches who’d traipsed in laden with shopping bags. 

Andromeda cocked an elegant brow and swirled her wine in her glass impishly. “Well?” 

Bellatrix narrowed her eyes, and demanded, “Well what?”

“When’re you proposing to Hermione?”

Bellatrix kicked Andromeda under the table. “I’m not,” she snarled, jokingly. “I don’t know if I could do the big white wedding thing again, Andy.”

“Big weddings are overrated and expensive, that’s why Alec and I agreed to something small and intimate,” Andromeda said. Then, face completely deadpan, she added, “I went to this one wedding about, oh, thirty odd years ago, and would you believe there were swan ice sculptures in the middle of the bloody tables. To this day it’s still the trashiest thing I’ve ever seen at a wedding.”

Bellatrix kicked her again. 

“Joking!”

“I’ll crack the jokes, sister.”

“But, and please don’t think I’m meddling, because I’m definitely not!” Andromeda insisted, holding her hands up in surrender even as her lips curled into a wide Cheshire grin. “But isn’t it about time you got your witch a nice diamond ring and made an honest woman out of her? You both really are the perfect fit, darling.”

 _Already got the ring, Andy_ , Bellatrix thought to herself, and hid her lopsided smirk behind another mouthful of ale. 

**Author's Note:**

> ‘...a bit of unexpected magic in my life’
> 
> This line was based on a quote made my HBC when she was asked about her new boyfriend during an interview about her portrayal of Princesses Margaret in The Crown (worth a watch if you haven’t seen it). I instantly fell in love with it and it was the inspiration for this fic.


End file.
